


1871 - How Do I Live When I'm Dead?

by Saquira



Series: Mayhem At The Masquerade [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Assassins, F/M, Gen, Mutant!Evie Frye, Mutant!Jacob Frye, Mutants, Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7257694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saquira/pseuds/Saquira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She gasps sharply as her last breath is expelled from her body and turquoise eyes widen in the face of her murderer. The man that stares back at her bares his teeth in a sharp grin, and then the sharp blade is withdrawn from her abdomen. Her hand flies up to press against the wound as the Templar in front of her takes a step back and pushes her away as he does so, and with nothing to support her weakening body, the young woman crumples to the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1871 - How Do I Live When I'm Dead?

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Assassin's Creed/Marvel crossover that will eventually include the events of the MCU. Initially, the only crossover part is the presence of mutants in the story, but I do plan for Evie Frye to take the place of Peggy Carter eventually and for that to have rather big after effects in the future of the 'verse. There is a possibility that this might eventually become a crossover with Rise of the Tomb Raider as well, but that's still quite far off.
> 
> I have quite a bit planned for this AU, though I've no idea when any more of it might actually be done.

- April 22 nd -

She gasps sharply as her last breath is expelled from her body and turquoise eyes widen in the face of her murderer. The man that stares back at her bares his teeth in a sharp grin, and then the sharp blade is withdrawn from her abdomen. Her hand flies up to press against the wound as the Templar in front of her takes a step back  and pushes her away as he does so, and with nothing to support her weakening body, the young woman crumples to the ground. 

An angry scream reaches her ears as she falls on her back, the slick sound of more blades slicing through flesh before  the sound of heavy boots running across the warehouse floor becomes the only noise she hears . She tries to draw breath, to push harder against the bleeding wound, but the pain causes another gasp and then blood is bubbling up from her throat as her vision darkens. 

A loud gunshot pierces the sudden silence, and she blinks; once, twice, three times. Attempting to clear her sight to see whoever is crouching at her side, who has placed his strong hand on her abdomen though she's long since ceased to feel the pain of the wound.  (That's bad, some muddled voice in her head reminds her, there should be pain.)

She tries to lift her hand, to open her eyes  (except, they are already open, aren't they? ) or answer the frantic voice that is growing more distant with every second that slips by. But there is no strength to grasp, no air to breathe, and as she falls into oblivion Evie Frye has the faint feeling that she's forgotten something very important.

* * *

Clarity is slow to return once it has been lost so thoroughly. Consciousness is attained in stages as she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. Soft cushions beneath her back and a quilt of cotton on top of her, something cold and wet on her forehead, a warm hand holding hers tightly and the blessed absence of pain . (What pain? When was there last any pain?)

Her recent memories return as if slipping through a sieve, one by one and painstakingly slow. O'Dea's succinct report of the incoming shipment. Jacob's face full with glee as he asks, as he always do, “shall we show them why London's ours, sister dear?”. Then the warehouse, the presence of the Templars, and… And pain. Deep excruciating pain, and the mere memory  of it  forces another pained gasp from her lips as Evie bends forward, hands coming up to rest hard upon her abdomen, completely forgetting the warm hand in hers. Confusion furrows her brow as her fingers come into contact with smooth, unblemished skin. No clothing means that there is no cloth to obstruct her view as she stares down at her own body in confusion.  There's no blood or wound, but there should be. (Unless… but no, he wouldn't. Would he?)

His touch on her shoulder brings her focus back to the present as she swivels to look at him. “What did you  _do_ ?” Her voice is frightened, rattled, and she hates the sound of it with every fibre of her being. Evie Frye is not weak, and she'd gladly deliver a beat down to anyone who suggested anything to the contrary. Her brother looks back at her with pain in his eyes and an apology on his lips, but she doesn't need to hear them to understand the words he doesn't know how to utter. (He didn't do  _anything_ . But then _how_ did this happen?)

There is no time to stop him as he raises the kukri Henry had given them when they first arrived in London. At first she only absent-mindedly notes that he's wearing a simple cotton shirt and a pair of old trousers, no bracers in sight, so of course he'd have to use the kukri. Then he's cutting, deep, into the palm of  _his own hand_ . She hardly thinks about it, grabbing his palm in hers and the kukri in her other hand before throwing it away (it sticks in the wall with a loud thunk, and  _of course_ she can throw even a blade of that size without trouble, she is  _Evie Frye_ ).

“You bloody muck snipe! What did you do that for?” she exclaims angrily, attempting to grab the cloth on the side table next to her to aid in stopping the bleeding. Her attempt is quickly stopped as he takes a hold around the hand holding the cloth, and when she tries to withdraw it in annoyance he merely sighs and tightens his grip.

“Just wait a moment, will you?” he finally utters, just around the time she's completely convinced that he's completely lost his mind. She throws him a glare, another insult just about to follow when she once again looks down and realises that the bleeding has _stopped_. She stills, blinking down at the small pool of blood in his hand as he finally lets go of her wrist. After a few moments Evie continues the motion to wipe the blood from his hand, and as soon as most of the blood is cleaned away and she can see the site of the wound, she drops the cloth in shock. Because the spot where her brother had only moments earlier cut himself held no sign of ever being damaged. She can't stop staring, even as her brother extracts his hand from hers and her gaze shifts to his face and the strained look in his eyes. 

Jacob moves slowly as he shifts to sit upon the bed next to her and draws his sister into his arms. She doesn't protest as he tucks her head under his chin, burrows his nose into her hair and closes his eyes for a few moments as he holds her.

“What are we?” Her voice comes out in a whisper when she can finally bring herself to speak again, and she more feels than hears his sigh against the top of her head before he slowly straightens up next to her. 

“Greenie thinks we might be something he refers to as mutants. Says he's met a couple who can do all kinds of stuff. One of them healed from pretty much anything, like you did,” Jacob says as he squeezes her shoulder gently with one of his hands.

“Does he know how we… how it happened?”

“No, from what it sounded like none of the people he's met knew either. Apparently it was just something they were born with.” Evie offers no answer as she stares into nothing, allowing her brother to hold her for both their sakes. It is as if a dark chasm has opened in her mind and no thought can escape it. For once, she isn't sure if she wants them to escape it.

“What happens now?” she quietly asks after what must have been at least another minute, and Jacob presses another kiss to the crown of her head before sighing loudly. 

“I don't know… I don't know,” he mutters quietly, and she presses her eyes tightly closed as she leans heavily against him. His grip on her is hard and she doubts she could get out of it even if she wanted too. But it's comfortable and reassuring, and she has no wish whatsoever to leave the embrace of the one man who she knows for certain will always be a constant in her life.

* * *

- April 24 th -

He doesn't look up when she enters the room, not at first. Her eyes scan the full shelves of the small shop absent-mindedly, and though on any ordinary day any one of the objects and books would have held her attention for hours today her mind lingers on the events of the last couple of days.

Evie looks back at him moments before he turns his gaze to her, but while his face erupts into a bright smile she merely smiles slightly and wonders when the butterflies that  had fluttered in her stomach whenever he look ed at her had turned to acid.

“How are you doing, love?” he asks as he rises from the chair and puts away the pen he's been using to write in the ledger on the table. She straightens up, stepping back from the bookshelf she's been leaning on, and doesn't shrug off his touch when he steps forward and put his arms around her in a gentle embrace. It doesn't feel like it used to, it doesn't feel natural, and she realises right in that moment that she came for the right reason. 

“I'm all right. Or I will be, at any rate,” she responds quietly as she returns the hug for a moment before extracting herself from his embrace. His brow furrows as she puts some distance between them, but he does not comment on her odd behaviour, instead waiting for her to speak. Evie's mouth opens of its own accord as she meets his eyes directly, but when no words are immediately forthcoming she closes it again. She's got a few more false starts by the time she finally finds the words to utter, and by that time there's a look of concern on his face as he watches her avidly.

“We need to talk. About us,” she finally utters as confusion passes over his face. Then comprehension, and his eyes close momentarily as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“You're breaking up with me.” He doesn't ask, for once quite certain about what's going on, and Evie almost smiles. 

“I...” She has to pause, not quite willing to admit the truth yet. But that was why she came, and she owes him this much at least. She owes him her honesty. “Yes,” she finally breathes out as she closes her eyes for a moment to avoid meeting his gaze. 

“I should have expected this, I suppose,” he murmurs, and when she opens her eyes again there's a wry smile on his lips. Evie doesn't know what to say, so she attempts to muster up an apologetic smile instead. From the look in his eyes, it isn't working. She should say something more, she knows that. But her tongue won't work and she isn't sure what would come out if she did manage to get it working again. 

Henry’s' steps are light as he steps forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. He only lingers for a moment  before he steps back , returning to his chair behind the shop counter. She follows him with her gaze, mouth opening again as if to say something.  Their eyes meet again and she closes her mouth,  taking a step backwards towards the door.

“I'm sorry,” she breathes out finally. Henry's answering smile is far too kind, far too forgiving, so Evie Frye turns around without another word and flees out through the door like a coward.

* * *

Evie 's sitting on the roof of St Pancras Station when Jacob finally finds her.  She tenses as he sits down beside her, her eyes following the small shapes of the people below them as she waits for her brother to say something. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder and joins her in watching the people.  After a few moments she sighs and leans against him, and Jacob wraps his arm around her shoulders and tilts his head down to touch hers. He's discarded his hat at some point, and Evie didn't bother getting her hood up when she left the shop.

N either of them speaks as the sun makes its way across the sky. Neither of them has any wish to put words to their feelings, and Jacob wouldn't know what to say either way. Besides, the Frye twins don't need words to understand each other. They never have before, and they won't in the future. Evie knows her brother will always be there for her, no questions asked, no matter what happens. And the same is true the other way around. At the end of the day, they'll always have each other, and that fact alone gives her courage enough to dare face the future. 


End file.
